Page 32 of The Triple Play

Hesitantly, he took it from my hand, his fingers brushing against the backs of mine as they slipped it from my grasp. He dug his fork back into his bowl, ready to shovel another bite, but paused as he read. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his brows furrowing as his eyes scanned the screen, his expression darkening with every message he read. “Elliot?”

I nodded once, the motion tight, and forced myself to take a bite of my burrito.

“He’s really not taking the fuckin’ hint, is he?” Colton’s jaw ticked as the sound of another incoming message played out.

“Yeah, he… he’s not,” I swallowed. “I don’t know how to get rid of him. He won’t stop. Every time I block him, he just messages me from a new number. It’s exhausting.”

He set my phone down on his knee, his fingers drumming on the table for a moment in irritation. “You don’t deserve that,” he grunted, setting his fork down. “None of that. That’s fuckin’ insane. Makes me want to rewind the clock and let Xavi beat the shit out of him. You shouldn’t be having to deal with this, Annie, and definitely not alone.”

He met my gaze, piercing and intense, and my stomach—no, myheart—did a stupid little flip. There was something comforting in his words despite the threat of violence, something comforting in the way he looked at me like I truly mattered to him. Like I wasn’t just some girl caught up in a mess that he was helping out. “I just need a break,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He sucked his teeth as he passed the phone back to me. “You should come with us to the next away game,” he urged, his voice low but insistent. “Get out of here for a bit. Away from everything.”

I stared at him for a moment, my stomach churning, the thought of taking another bite after that offer only making the nausea worse. “I… I don’t know, Colton.”

“It’ll be a chance to breathe. We’ll make sure you have a good time.” He lifted the bowl from the table, bringing it closer to his mouth, and shoveled more food onto his fork. “You wouldn’t have to deal with this shit for a bit at least.”

He sounded so sure, so positive that it would be good for me, and a part of me wanted to say yes — the same part of me that was exhausted and just wanted to run. But my mind drifted back to what had happened last week at that party with Cole, the kiss that had lingered on my mouth for days, the tension I was positive it was going to create between us all. Surely he wouldn’t want me to come with if he knew.

I set my barely unwrapped burrito down on the paper on the table, watching him intently as he chewed. “I kissed Cole,” I said warily.

Colton’s expression faltered for a moment, something akin to surprise flickering across his features as he looked down at his half-eaten food. He didn’t look angry or upset, just taken back, and he shifted a little uncomfortably on the couch, an awkwardness I’d never seen on him coming out. “Yeah. I know.”

What?

I swallowed, staring at him, my mouth parted in surprise. He knew. He knew, and he was still here, still offering me that. “I…what? You knew?”

“He told me about it the moment I came back in from following you,” he said around a mouthful, his hand flicking out in emphasis as if it was completely casual, his body relaxing just a smidgen. “Is that relevant?”

“I don’t understand,” I murmured, shaking my head, my pulse pounding beneath my skin. The words came out before I could think them through. “You… Am I just really dense? Are you not interested in me?”

He chuckled lightly and set his bowl back down. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it. I am. I like you. A hell of a lot, actually,” he said, his voice a little softer, and I couldfeelthe heat rising in my cheeks as I stared at him, my heart beating hard in my chest. “But I’m not gonna be jealous of my friends, if that’s what you were worried about. We’re all adults here, Annie, and you can make your own decisions. I just want you to be happy. Want them to be happy. It’s not that complicated.”

That wasn’t the answer I was expecting at all.

There was something so honest about the way he said it, theeasethat rippled off him like it was so intensely casual. Like fights weren’t fought on the school playground over this kind of thing, like wars weren’t started because of it, like the story of Helen of Troy wasn’t one that held weight.

I swallowed hard, unsure of what on earth to say to that, but before I could even find a single word to let slip past my teeth, Colton gave me a small, reassuring smile.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m genuinely not that bothered by it,” he said gently. “I’m not in a rush with you. I’m not going to pressure you into anything.”

I chewed on my lip, mulling over his words. “You’re really not mad?”

He leaned back on the couch, stretching his legs out, putting one arm over the back of it. “Come here, Annie,” he huffed, a half-hearted, goofy little grin pulling his cheeks apart, that dimple popping back out. “Come sit with me.”

I didn’t know why I didn’t have to fully think about it. My body was up and out of that chair in a millisecond, my pajama shorts riding just a little high on my thighs as I sat down beside him sideways, facing him on the sofa. I readjusted my oversized t-shirt out of habit, curling my legs up until they were criss-crossed, my hair still a little damp from the shower.

But he beamed at me like I was the picture of perfection right now.

“Listen,” he said, the hand around the back of the couch shifting just a little near my head before a tickle pricked at my scalp, a few strands of my hair wrapped around his shifting fingers. My breath hitched. “Do I want you to like me back? Absolutely. But I’m not the kind of guy who gets possessive just because someone I’m into likes someone else, too. Especially not when they’re my friends. I genuinely just want you to be happy, sweetheart.”

I swallowed as he leaned a little closer, not crowding me in the slightest, but he moved in like he had a secret to tell me.

“And if that’s with me, then hell yeah,” he grinned, his voice a little lower. “But if it’s not, I’ll live. Probably. I’ll just drown my sorrows in badly made mixed drinks and hockey stats.”

He continued to spin a single lock of my hair around his fingers as his other hand moved into my space, wrapping around the back of my palm on top of my knee. My pulse picked up further, his warmth invading my senses on the soft, sensitive skin of my inner lower thigh, his fingers just barely brushing against it. But it grounded me, too, more than I was expecting. Made me feel like maybe I wasn’t standing in the middle of a tropical storm with the wind battering me from all sides.

“I…” My voice was barely louder than a breath as I searched for the right words to say. “I just don’t know where my head is at with all this. With any of you.”